


waterfall of gold

by leovaldez



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Gen, Magic, Mist (Percy Jackson)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:15:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26616559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leovaldez/pseuds/leovaldez
Summary: “Do it again,” Hecate finally said. “You are afraid of something. Do not be afraid. If you let your fear control you then you are as weak as you look.”“I’mnotweak.”
Relationships: Hazel Levesque & Hecate
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13





	waterfall of gold

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kwiimi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kwiimi/gifts), [pearlselegancies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pearlselegancies/gifts), [silima](https://archiveofourown.org/users/silima/gifts).



> hehe. here's a gift to team 7 😘, cause you all like hazel. 💖💖💖
> 
> so... [ nina drew this absolutely stunning artwork](https://silima.tumblr.com/post/630007576433688576/waterfall-of-gold) and so I remembered bee saying something about hecate and hazel interactions, and then I thought about how sad it was for pearl to (kinda) be leaving pjo without a goodbye gift so... here we are 💗💗💗

Sometimes it felt like flying. Which was worse than it sounded because Hazel got airsick on the ship, so her mouth tasted of something vile and her stomach was doing gymnastics. When she was a kid she did ballet, and there would sometimes be these graceful yet terrifying jumps that caused this same feeling, the pumping of legs and lift off, and to kiss the floor with her toes. There was always the fear of never landing quite right.

This was infinitely worse. Hazel snapped her wrist and the mist refused to listen to her. It annoyed her to a certain extent but was not as frustrating as Hecate standing there and watching her quietly. Sweat beaded on her forehead. 

“Do it again,” Hecate finally said. “You are afraid of something. Do not be afraid. If you let your fear control you then you are as weak as you look.”

“I’m _not_ weak.” Biting back mumbled curses, Hazel ignored the stomach flips and squeezed her eye shut. In her mind, was the mist, but now is tickled her imaginary ankles and swirled with the imaginary wind. Her body in her mindscape wandered around a dull black space. 

“Picture something wild and try to control it,” Hecate’s voice echoed in her ears.

A memory bubbled to her mind, and Hazel heard an anguished cry. She knew that noise. In her mind, the mist danced around upward until it formed into the shadow of a horse. It screamed at her, and begin to run away. Hazel hesitated.

“Face your fears.” Hecate’s words were but an irritable whisper.

The horse stopped running and howled in pain again. The wind began to whip faster around them, the air growing hot. Hazel shuddered at the mist horse tinging red as if she could feel the horse’s breath across her face. It was too much, too overwhelming- it was too similar to something else, someone screaming at her in Alaska, and crushing sensation against her body. 

Then the horse began to gallop at her. Hazel knew horses were fast. It sprinted at her, and she couldn’t stop from almost crying out, but she wanted to jump away. She would’ve been killed.

For a moment, Hazel almost screamed. She was ready to just be blown to the side, and she heard sinister laughter and gasped.

This time, she held her ground, her feet grounded and her fists heavy at her sides. This wasn’t like flying or gymnastics or ballet. This was being rooted in the ground, strong and unmoving. 

Hazel’s eyes fluttered closed as the angry horse drew near and the wind slammed into her, hair flying back, and the heat of the horse’s angry breath slapped across her face. 

The wind died down, and so did the noises. Replacing it, was a sweet neigh, and Hazel opened her eyes. The angry stallion that once screamed blood red now glittered in a dazzling black mist, shifting in front of her. Hazel smiled.

“Hello,” She reached out, and the horse bowed his head to her. The touch was warm, and she opened her eyes in real life and smiled up at Hecate. “I did it!”

The witch raised an eyebrow as if she was waiting for something. Almost instantly, the warmness fading from her hands coiled and spiked through her veins, and the impact brought Hazel to her knees. 

The actual Mist swirled around her, and Hazel held out her hands. The mist materialized in front of her and poured into her hands like black sand. Hazel thought about the mist-horse in her mind. She was not afraid. 

The black overfilled her hands but dribbled out in golden glitter. It expanded upon itself, spilling onto the ground in the gold light. Hazel almost laughed. The mist felt light yet heavy. Not close to the flying feeling but not close to the grounded feeling either. 

The gold never seemed to run out, as more mist grew solid- mist she couldn’t even see anymore, and her fingers touched gold. Hazel tried to manipulate it this time around, and she was almost frightened by how easy it came to her. The gold formed into a ball, and then a cube, and then a tiny girl who danced across from her. 

The golden girl twinkled like bells and danced up her leg and up her arm and into her hands. Hazel cupped her hands so the girl wouldn’t fall, and the girl held her hand to her mouth as if she was giggling, did a twirl into a bow. She looked at Hazel and Hazel looked back in awe.

“Why does she look like-” Before Hazel could finish the girl exploded in gold, and something heavy fell into her hands. She squeezed the handle but the other side clattered to the ground. A shiny black blade sparkled in the dirt, thin lines of luminous gold curling around the handle, while gold mist emanated from the sides.

Hazel stood, holding the weapon in front of her. She swung it, the scythe feeling balanced in her grip, mist leaving a trail. She snapped her wrist again, the same motion as earlier, and the weapon dissolved into the Mist again, not golden like her Mist, but the one clouding reality. 

“Ah,” Hecate said, and Hazel couldn’t stop grinning to herself. She didn't care what Hecate was going to say, only satisfied with her own abilities, and then she heard, in a more thoughtful tone: “Congratulations, Hazel. Maybe there is some strength in you.”

**Author's Note:**

> I JUST THINK IT SHOULD ALWAYS COME BACK TO THE SCYTHE!!!! 😩😩😩
> 
> [here is the stunning art again!](https://silima.tumblr.com/post/630007576433688576/waterfall-of-gold)
> 
> have a good day!!!!


End file.
